


Heart of Earth (and all that lay below)

by azureyes



Category: Undertale (Video Game), モブサイコ100 | Mob Psycho 100
Genre: Crossover, Mob has a lot of feelings, reigen is a good dad, takes place after mogami and separation arc! probably (timelines are weird), trying not to spoil things in the tags so they'll update as the chapters do
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-08-21 23:26:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16586321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azureyes/pseuds/azureyes
Summary: An unsolved string of disappearances on a certain mountaintop is just suspicious enough for an impromptu investigation from the Twenty-first Century’s Greatest Psychic, Reigen Arataka... and a certain psychic middle-schooler.(In which Mob and Reigen find themselves in the hidden depths of Mount Ebott, encounter monsters only spoken of in legends, and do some soul searching. Unfortunately for them, some seem to take 'soul searching' a bit too literally.





	1. Pollen and Petals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mob and Reigen make a friend.

Reigen has a headache.

 

He squints his eyes open as his consciousness lazily trickles back to him, immediately regretting doing so when he’s assaulted with familiar but all too bright sunlight. It pours in from a distant hole that looms above, illuminating a flurry of colorful specks overhead. Was that dust? 

 

He groggily lifts a hand to his face, as if trying to shield himself from the onslaught of light and sound attacking his senses. Waking up on the ground in some random sunny hole prompts the question he should have been asking to begin with: _what in the world happened?_

 

Well, maybe that reaction wasn’t just limited to random sunny holes. 

 

As his head throbs away, he tries to retrace his earlier steps, struggling to remember exactly what had landed him here. He thinks back to research, reading some articles, and piecing together evidence that wasn’t really evidence, just as easily as he did with his unsuspecting clients. People disappearing without a trace, as if the mountain had swallowed them whole... it sounded spiritual, or at least something worth investigating. Interesting enough to get him this far away from his office for a while, if nothing else.

 

The fingers on his other hand twitch to life at these recollections, skimming cautiously over the ground below. Were these _flowers_? Maybe that dust was actually pollen, then. 

 

He's getting side-tracked. He’d forced these old bones up the mountainside, going on and on about random facts he’d scribbled in imaginary notes to… Mob, right, he’d taken Mob along.  Definitely not because he couldn't exorcise a spirit on his own, because he was definitely a psychic. At least, most of Spice City seemed to think so, after that little display during the press conference. He doubts he's fooling the real psychic between them these days, but they don't discuss it. Where was he, again? Right, Mob. He doesn't recall how he managed to convinced the kid to join him for the weekend-long expedition, especially when  _hiking_ was going to be involved, but there he'd been. Maybe the promise of a bonus had swayed him, or something.

 

A sudden thought assaults his subconscious, dispelling the dullness plaguing his senses in a single swipe. He’d taken Mob with him. And now he was here. So where was—

 

“Master?”

 

—Mob. Reigen heaves a heavy sigh of relief, finally making a commitment to consciousness with the clumsy movement of pulling himself upright. A jacket that had been draped over him slides down from his shoulders, and it takes him a moment or two to realize it was Mob's. Had he put it over him while he was out? Of course he would, sweet kid he was. Ignoring his body’s protests, he shuffles onto one knee with a grunt, gingerly rubbing the back of his head. He was gonna feel _that_ tomorrow. But that was a problem for tomorrow's Reigen, because today's Reigen is a bit preoccupied. 

 

“Ah, your head.” Mob’s quiet voice fights with his thoughts for attention, as his little hands hover in the space between them. “Sorry, I tried to—”

 

“Hey, hey, slow down. Never thought I’d have to tell _you_ that.” Reigen adds the last bit under his breath, turning to face his student at last. There’s a scrape on Mob's cheek and bits of grass and dirt clinging to his shirt, but he looks mostly unharmed otherwise. That was good. Reigen decides not to point out the golden flecks of pollen in his hair that make him look like a cupcake with sprinkles.

 

Mob hesitates, letting a few beats pass before resuming his fretting. “Are you okay?”

 

“Never better.” Reigen says, pulling a twig out of his hair and tossing it away into the grass. He still has all four limbs, so it wasn't entirely a lie. “Are _you_ okay?”

 

“I’m fine.”

 

“Alright, good.” Reigen exhales, standing shakily to his feet. The sudden movement sends his world spinning until Mob steadies him with telekinesis.

 

“You shouldn’t stand up yet.” He says, and Reigen can’t help but be amused at the thought of Mob scolding him. “You hit your head.”

 

“Did I, now.” Reigen mutters, fixing his gaze on the other when his vision clears. “I don’t suppose that means you know what happened, then?”

 

“You fell.”

 

He snorts, handing Mob's jacket back to him _._ “Seems like it. Anything else?”

 

“I followed you.” Mob pauses to pull the garment back over his shoulders, looking just a little sheepish. “I couldn't see you otherwise... Um, I caught you with my powers, but I think you blacked out.”

 

Reigen raises an eyebrow, sparing their surroundings a glance. He’d been out before hitting the ground? Well, that was embarrassing. So sue him, he's never been very good with heights. Wait, if Mob had caught him, how _had_ he hit the ground? This wasn’t adding up. “Is that all?” He prompts, dusting himself off.

 

Mob shakes his head, no. “I tried to bring us back onto the ledge, but there’s something there.”

 

Reigen frowns. “Something where?”

 

“Up there.” Mob points to the opening they’d supposedly fallen through, and Reigen cranes his neck to look. All he sees is distant sunshine; he feels small when he notices how far away it really is.

 

“I couldn’t get through it. Um, it surprised me, so I dropped us.” Mob finishes, fidgeting shamefully. “I slowed you down, but I wasn’t very quick. I’m sorry.”

 

Reigen waves him off with an exaggerated gesture. “No harm done. Er... What do you mean, you couldn’t get through it?”

 

“It’s... like my barrier?” Mob elaborates at a snail's pace, looking just as confused as Reigen does, if not more. “But not. It felt weird.”

 

Reigen strokes his chin, brows furrowed. “Is it another esper’s doing?”

 

“No. I’d be able to sense them, I think.”

 

“And you got _in_ just fine?”

 

“Yes. It only hurt on the way out.”

 

Reigen winces at the word _‘_ _hurt’._  For Mob to have lost his grip in spite of his nigh flawless control, he imagines it couldn't have felt good.“So, it’s kind of like a door that locks behind you. With... extra invisible spikes?”

 

Mob ponders over this for a moment or two, as Reigen wonders what kind of analogy _that_ was supposed to be. He's usually better with words than this. “Yeah, like that.” 

 

“Great.” Reigen huffs, gathering himself up. “Well! Guess we’ll just have to find a different way. Er...” He glances around, not particularly fond of that dark spooky opening nearby. Maybe he'll save that as a last resort. “Did you try blasting through it already?”

 

“I tried to get rid of it while you were unconscious.” Mob confirms, and looks almost a little discomforted by that fact. As much as he would let show on his face, at least. “It’s... It's not psychic power. I don’t know what to do with it.”

 

“Then don’t do anything. You tried your best.” Reigen assures him, clapping his hand on Mob’s shoulder. He can’t imagine it’s easy being one of the most powerful beings alive, and still finding little things like this that simply couldn’t be touched. For a kid, it must be jarring; for him, a little worrying. If they aren’t the most powerful things down here, then there might be a problem.

 

Well, no time for that— He has other things on his mind. Like the bag he'd been carrying before, and how it was positioned in such a way that it left no room to doubt he'd been using it as a pillow while clonked out on the ground. Mob had really put the _bed_ in flowerbed here, hadn't he? He grabs it. 

 

“We’ll find another way up, like I said.” He repeats with a composed twirl of the hand, before tilting his student’s face upwards with his finger in the same movement. “That hurt much?”

 

Mob blinks, bringing a tentative hand to the scrape on his cheek and the pinkish, tender flesh that surrounded it. Perhaps he’d forgotten about it, or simply hadn’t noticed it to begin with. He shakes his head. “No, not badly.”

 

“Good.” Reigen’s hand migrates from under Mob’s chin to the top of his head, ruffling already tousled black locks. Espers were pretty tough compared to average people — Reigen likes to think that if Mob were really hurt bad, he’d tell him. “Then let’s go. We can get cleaned up later.”

 

* * *

 

Just his luck, that unwelcoming dark tunnel off to the side turned out to be the only direction available for them to travel in. He had half a mind to try scaling the jagged walls of whatever cave they’d plunged into instead, but he hardly feels up to _walking,_ much less climbing at impossible angles when he already knows freedom will be denied him at the top. He doesn’t want to make Mob feel worse than he already does for not being able to dispel whatever barrier sat over the opening, either.

 

Nope. It was the tunnel of dark spooky darkness, or nothing.

 

“Tch.” He clicks his tongue upon pulling out his cell phone, finding just what one would expect when on the inside of a _mountain:_  no service to speak of. The ‘x’ that sat over his empty bars almost seemed to taunt him, a silent little fiend that whispered _‘you’re screwed’._

 

Or maybe he’s being ridiculous. But knowing that they had no way to call for help if this tunnel didn’t actually go anywhere was just a little unnerving.

 

“Hey, Mob. Can you amplify a phone signal?”

 

“Eh?” Mob blinks at the question, finger pressed to his lip. “I don't know, I’ve never tried to.”

 

Reigen hands his phone over, pinpointing the bars— or lack thereof— with his finger. “See if you can get that to come back. I don’t think we’re in _that_ much trouble, but it’ll be useful as a backup plan if we need it later.”

 

Mob nods, illuminating the dim space with his aura as it flows up his arm and into the phone cradled in his palm. Reigen notices his mouth curve a little at its edges in concentration, looking like a frown that couldn’t quite commit.

 

“Um, it’s…” Mob squints at the screen before showing it to Reigen again, words failing him. Reigen finds it equally as puzzling as he watches the bars flicker up and down like some kind of buggy rollercoaster. There's no way he could make a call like that. 

 

“...Maybe that thing is interfering.” Reigen shrugs helplessly, watching the bars drop one last time and stay down when Mob hands him his phone back. So much for that. “Well, that’s fine. I doubt we’ll need it anyway.”

 

“Mm.” Mob hums in response, though Reigen isn’t quite sure what it was supposed to mean. They plow on in silence until another patch of sunlight comes into view, and Reigen relaxes a little when they aren't walking blindly in the dark any longer.

 

“Do you think that one is sealed over, too?” He asks Mob as they approach, placing his hand over his eyes to better look at the opening above.

 

Mob does the same, looking thoughtful. “I’m not sure. I could check, if you want.”

 

He doesn't, though, first interrupted by a shrill and not-quite-human, _“Howdy!”_

 

Reigen leaps a good few inches off the ground, a squeaky wheeze fleeing through his teeth. Mob had barely flinched, but when his hair puffs out like a bristling cat and sends the remaining pollen flying everywhere, Reigen thinks they're even. Mob no longer resembles a sprinkled cupcake, though. Truly a tragedy. 

 

Something— or someone, perhaps— giggles at their antics from below, luring their gazes downward upon collecting themselves. Reigen's eyebrow shoots up to new heights when he finds a  _flower_  sitting there. Okay, that's probably not normal. It continues in spite of their skeptic stares, just as cheery as it'd been to start, which Reigen thinks is _way_ too much. As far as he knows, flowers aren’t supposed to talk. Or have _eyes._

 

“Hey, Mob,” He whispers not at all discreetly to his apprentice, who was watching it curiously. “Did I hit my head too hard back there, or is this flower talking to us?”

 

“No, it’s talking.” Mob confirms. Reigen thinks he can see its eye twitch a little at being ignored, but he isn't sure.

 

“Yup, I sure am! I’m Flowey,” It greets, bobbing on its stem with renewed energy. “Flowey the Flower.”

 

Reigen swallows down a snort, likening Flowey to a stuffed animal named after itself; something like ‘Beary the Bear’ comes to mind.

 

“It’s nice to meet you, Flowey.” Mob says beside him, crouching down to better meet the flower’s gaze. Flowey straightens himself to full height in response (which wasn't very high), as if Mob’s polite gesture had perhaps made him feel small.

 

“Well, ruffle my petals!” Flowey exclaims, quickly following up with a softer _“don’t, actually”_  when Mob reaches to do just that. “Finally, some _nice_ visitors. You two must be new to the Underground, huh?”  

 

Mob’s mouth forms a small ‘o’ shape. “How did you know?”

 

The flower winks, and Reigen is _still_ left to wonder why it has eyes to do that with. “Guess I’ve got good intuition!”

 

“I don’t suppose you _also_ have a good sense of direction?” Reigen asks, and— upon being fixed under Flowey’s less-than-amused stare— hastily adds, “Er,  _'Flowey?'”_

 

The flower perks at that, swaying in an imaginary breeze. “Course I do! I know the Underground like the back of my hand.”

 

“You don’t have hands.” Mob observes. Flowey ignores him.   

 

“Great! Then you wouldn’t mind directing us to the nearest exit? We’re kind of pressed for time here,” Reigen gestures to a watch on his wrist that isn’t actually there, and subsequently realizes Flowey probably wouldn’t get it anyways. Flowers don’t wear watches. “no time for sightseeing.”

 

Flowey hums, something not unlike brows furrowing at the question. “Well, sure I can! But if you want to get _there,_ ” He says, and he almost sounds delighted. “A quick lesson is in order. I bet you don't have a clue about how things work down here, do ya? How about I show you the ropes?”

 

“That won’t be necessary.” Reigen dismisses with a wave of his hand. “We’re trained specialists.”

 

Flowey nods with keen interest. “Golly, I’m sure! But it’s a bit dangerous down here for humans like you... I’d be an _awful_ guide to let you go like this!”

 

Reigen’s eye twitches. Mob returns to his prior position at his side.

 

“Master,” He says, looking thoughtful. “Maybe we should hear it out.”

 

Two against one, it seems. Well, if they were going to be so insistent, he supposes it can’t hurt. “Alright, but make it quick.”

 

“Great! You won’t be disappointed.” Flowey chirps, and as if on cue, something jumps out at Reigen from right under his nose. A breathless feeling is left in its wake, and he nearly staggers at the sensation.

 

“See that heart?” Flowey asks, as Reigen examines the flighty little thing. Instinctively, he cups his hands on either side of it, watching as it pulsed and glowed in his palms. He can't shake the feeling that this was something he was never meant to see.

 

“That's your soul,” Flowey continues, and suddenly these strange sensations make sense. “The very culmination of your being.” 

  
_This_ was his soul? It doesn’t resemble him very much, but he’s a bit more concerned with how souls were, as far as he knows, supposed to stay _inside_  of you. Mob’s soul takes an identical action beside him, and Reigen wonders why it looks so much different than he'd last seen it. Maybe because he hadn't exited his body this time? That was probably it. Around its edges was a faint, but familiar aura — perhaps the biggest difference between the two — and Reigen assumes it’s merely an indicator that Mob is an esper.

 

How had Flowey had been able to summon them so easily, anyway? Was he just bluffing? Really, what would a talking flower know about souls? Beside him, Mob studies his own soul in silence, captivated by its luminous presence. Flowey keeps going without prompt, answering none of Reigen's unspoken questions.

 

“Your souls are pretty weak right now,” He tells them, and it’s the dumbest thing he’s heard all morning. Well, maybe _his_ soul was weak— he’s not a soul expert, he doesn’t know— but someone calling Mob weak was either ignorant, or stupid. “but they can get stronger if you gain a lot of LV!”

 

“LV?” Mob echoes, head tilted just slightly to one side.

 

Flowey nods. “LV! It stands for LOVE. I bet you'd like some, wouldn't you?”

 

Mob and Reigen exchange a glance. Reigen struggles to keep a straight face. 

 

“Hey,” He interrupts, idly twirling his finger before pointing in a vaguely accusatory manner at the flower below. “no offense, but that sounds super shady. My boy’s a smart kid, he wouldn’t fall for that.”

 

Flowey almost looks a little hurt, petals drooping. “You don’t believe me? I’m just trying to set you up for success! Where you’re going, you’re gonna need a strong soul.”

 

Mob blinks slowly, pointing at the distant opening in the ceiling above. “You mean, up there?”

 

“No. Well, yes, but the route there— you’ll thank me for this, trust me!” Flowey assures. Reigen rolls his eyes. 

 

“Alright, get on with it, then. But don’t try anything creepy, I’m a green-belt.” The implication will likely be lost on Flowey, but Reigen never passes up an opportunity to remind people he can kill with his knees. 

 

Flowey relaxes when given the green light, petals perking back up again. “Who, me? I wouldn’t dream of it. Now, as I was saying,” Something forms an arc above Flowey’s head, and Reigen wonders if they’re seeds. They look more like packing peanuts, actually. “Down here, love is shared through little white… _‘Friendliness pellets.’_ I’ll share some with you, okay? Think of it as a welcoming gift.”

 

 _Friendliness pellets._ Reigen might’ve asked him if he was serious, if he wasn’t left to wonder where Flowey had gotten those from, or perhaps if he'd made them himself. He can’t help but compare that ability to an esper, regardless; maybe he should have had those suspicions from the start, considering this was a _talking flower_ and all.

 

Mob must have noticed, too, because he looks significantly more alert. Flowey smiles.

 

“Move around!” He prompts, oozing unbridled enthusiasm as if it were nectar. “Get as many as you can!”

 

They form a cluster of slow moving projectiles, closing in on Reigen first. Right, because he was supposed to jump around like a madman for some shady packing peanuts. He's not losing his last ounce of dignity to a daisy. He ducks easily out of the way; this time, he's sure he's not imagining Flowey’s eye twitching.

 

“Uh. Hey buddy, you missed them.” He points out, tone lacking its prior joviality. 

 

Reigen shrugs, hands snaking their way into his pockets. “Clumsy me.”

 

Flowey summons another set, grin slipping back into place. “Once more, then.”

 

They hurtle towards Mob this time, who cautiously side-steps out of their path. Flowey’s demeanor shifts instantaneously.

 

“...Is this a joke?” He asks, incredulous. Mob takes a moment to think over his answer. “Um, not really.”

 

Flowey bares his teeth (good heavens above, _why_ does he have those?), trembling in the dirt. “What, are you _brain-dead?”_   He snaps, summoning a third arc of pellets to fling their way. _“RUN INTO THE BUL— F-FRIENDLINESS PELLETS!”_

 

So that's how it is, huh? Reigen knew this guy was shady. “Brain-dead? I could ask you the same thing.” He cuts in, gesturing vaguely with one hand. Does Flowey even _have_ a brain? “Weren't you listening? We're trained specialists, and you aren't exactly subtle. If you're going to attack us, then don't bother with an act. We don't have time to play.”

 

Flowey stares evenly at Reigen, startlingly calm after his outburst. “Oh. Is that so...? Fine.” His smile grows unnaturally wide, practically splitting his face in two as narrow pinpricks of light tremble in the black depths of his eyes. The ring of pellets they’re suddenly surrounded by no longer seem so friendly. Perhaps they never were.

 

Reigen considers the possibility that he _may_ have made a mistake. 

 

**_“Die, then.”_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * You know what's going on here, don't you? 
> 
> ...
> 
> Howdy, thanks for reading this far if you did! Since Undertale and Mp100 have similar tones and messages, I thought they'd mesh really well together as a crossover. Hopefully I can make it work from here, I'm really invested in the idea! This is my first time posting a fic in about... 5 years or so, and my first time ever for the mp100 OR ut fandom, so I hope it's alright. 
> 
> If you have any ideas to better this fic or constructive criticism, feel free to tell me! Feedback is always super appreciated. See you next chapter!


	2. Reorientation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> re·or·i·ent ( rēˈôrēənt )
> 
> to find one's position again in relation to one's surroundings.

**_“Die, then.”_ **

 

_22%_

 

Were it merely based on looks, Mob wouldn’t be very worried. They don’t _look_ dangerous.

 

There lies the problem, because they certainly aren’t harmless, either. He doesn’t know _exactly_ what they are, but much unlike his master, he knows they aren’t packing peanuts or seeds. They give off a strange energy he can’t pin down, foreign and sinister — not a psychic aura, he’s sure, but an aura of raw emotion and intention. It reminds him of things he’d rather not recall, in spite of its unfamiliarity.

 

In short, whatever they were made up of is something he’s never encountered before. He doesn’t like the unspoken implications that followed behind that fact.

 

Reigen huffs next to him, eyeing the projectiles with the amount of concern you’d expect from someone who genuinely thought they were being attacked by _packing peanuts_ — which was none. “Aren’t _you_ shaping up to be ‘host of the year.’”

 

The pellets, as he’s chosen to call them, twirl around him and Reigen almost gracefully, like a dancer closing in on center stage. They shouldn’t be touched, he knows this; call it an esper’s instinct, or maybe just common sense. He slides away from the edge until he’s practically back to back with Reigen, wariness only expressed in his minute body language and tense shoulders.

 

“Master,” He says, not taking his eyes off the constricting circle. “I don’t think these pellets are friendly.”

 

Reigen snorts, despite himself. “Yeah, I think it got sick of that shtick. _Friendliness pellets._ ” He throws his hands up dramatically, ending the gesture with an exaggerated shrug. “Think it’s taking the whole _‘kill them with kindness’_ thing a little too literally here?”

 

It takes Mob a moment or two to get the reference, just enough time for Reigen to reach out towards the approaching edge. “They’re so small,” He considers. “maybe they’re harmless.”

 

“Wait—” Mob sputters out a warning, and for once, Reigen listens. “They… it’s, it feels strange. You shouldn’t touch them.”

 

That was more than enough. Reigen retracts his hand, old habits taking hold of his lips almost instantly. “That so? Must be too weak for me to sense.”

 

“I’m not sure you’d be able to sense it, anyways.” Mob says, brows furrowing just slightly behind the black curtain of his hair. “I’ve never seen it before.”

 

“Well, that’s comforting.” Reigen mutters, tugging at his shirt collar as the space grows smaller still. “Hey, I know you said not to touch, but— _theoretically speaking,_ what would happen?”

 

“I don’t know.” Is Mob’s response, and he hopes that the desired result can speak for itself, considering what Flowey had just told them to do. _‘ Die’_ was a pretty strong word to put behind tiny things like these, and Mob’s been through too much to be so careless with the unfamiliar.

 

Without so much as a word, his barrier wraps around them in a protective bubble, pinks and blues rolling across its surface in wavy gradients. Reigen relaxes at the familiar sight.

 

“It feels weird.” Mob continues his prior thought, stare still fixated on Flowey’s attack. “It’s definitely not psychic power. Or a spirit.”

 

“Darn, so it’s not possessed.” Reigen laments, as Flowey’s maniacal laughter echoes off the cave walls. Mob’s fingers twitch all the while, the shrill sound making his skin crawl. “So much for exorcising it, then. Maybe we can just… step on it?”

 

Mob ponders over this. “That could kill it, though.”

 

“It seems pretty keen on killing _us.”_ Reigen mutters, but sounds doubtful in spite of his accusation.

 

Mob hums in agreement. “Well, Dimple tried to kill me too when I first met him, but it turned out fine.”

 

“He _what.”_

 

“Oh, well, that was when—” Mob's recollection comes to an abrupt halt, a few stray locks of hair breaking away from gravity’s hold as one of Flowey’s attacks passes harmlessly through his barrier. It hadn’t broken; it had merely gone through, as if it’d never been.

 

_25%_

 

“Uh, Mob?” Reigen voices his thoughts, restless hands springing to life to point at anything that moved. “Oi, what’s with your barrier? Did you turn it off?”

 

“No,” Mob swallows, constricting his barrier closer. Reigen has to crouch to remain within its not-so-protective walls. “It’s still there, I don’t know what’s going on.”

 

Again, the pellets phase through. Mob’s expression grows taut.

 

“Um, master. I don’t think I can stop this with a barrier.”

 

“Oh.” Reigen utters, a bead of sweat dripping down his cheek. “That might be a problem.”

 

It is, it is a problem. And then suddenly, it isn’t.

 

Before either of them can comment on the smell of something burning, a sphere of fire swings through the darkness, hitting their assailant hard enough to rip him right out of the ground. The ring of bullets surrounding them disappear into individual puffs of glittery dust; Mob sneezes when some gets up his nose.

 

For a moment, it's quiet. Those moments didn't typically last very long when his master was present, though. “O—kay.” Reigen heaves a deep breath when the dust clears, the tension gathered in his shoulders dissipating at last. “Okay! That was, ah, very— something. Yeah.” He pats Mob on the back with enough force to send him staggering, wiping his forehead free of sweat. “Nice job there, Mob. That thing never saw it coming.”

 

“Ah, but—” Mob protests, attempting to steady himself. “I didn’t do anything.”

 

Reigen stalls, and Mob can practically see the gears turning behind his brownish eyes. For how long he’d taken to think it over, the soft _“oh”_  Mob gets in response feels particularly puny.

 

Puny or not, though, it was enough to act as their call into the shadows ahead. Something answers, calling back to them in the form of faint footsteps echoing down through the tunnel. Reigen gathers himself into some strange looking defensive position as they steadily grow closer.

 

“That was some fancy fire work.” He says to Mob, voice hushed. “Are you _sure_ there aren’t any other espers around?”

 

“I’m sure.” Mob confirms, not bothering to raise his barrier again. He doesn’t know why, but the energy that came off of that controlled flame wasn’t nearly as oppressive as Flowey’s had been. It almost puts him at ease, not that he says so.  

 

_“What a terrible creature.”_

 

Reigen startles at a female voice, gawking up at its source when she finally steps out of the shadows. She has yet to acknowledge them, staring after Flowey as he flees with a coldness that almost rivals the little flickers of flame still clinging to life on her palms. Almost.

 

In the brief moments to follow, Mob is able to make several observations:

 

One, she is not an esper. Not a human, either. Not an animal. Something entirely different, he’d guess, nameless in his subconscious. Two, she’s very big, making even his master look short in comparison — but the presence she carries with her is even _bigger,_ and impossible to ignore. It’s powerful, but gentle; authoritative, but kind. One trait not quite enough to contradict the other. Three... she looks _really_ soft. That’s not a hard thing to notice, but it sure is hard to look away from.

 

Mob feels a bit rude staring so much. At least he’s doing better than his master, who literally has to put his gaping jaw back into place with his own two hands upon being addressed by her.

 

“You poor things,” She continues after giving them a once-over, a subtle worry laced deeply into her facial features. “falling all that way, only to encounter that fiendish pest. Pay him and his nonsense no mind.”

 

Reigen stares in awestruck silence, jittery hands grasping at empty air as if his lost words were a tangible thing he could reclaim that way. The lady in purple watches him with with some odd mixture of curiosity and concern.

 

“Oh, my. Did I frighten you? I apologize.” She spreads her hands out from her sides, flames dying away into a familiar plume of luminous dust. “Do not be afraid, I will not harm you. Are you well?”

 

Drenched in sweat and anything but well, Reigen finally finds his voice, coughing louder than necessary to clear his throat. “Oh, yes, absolutely! Never been better, er, ma’am.” His confidence starts to trickle back, Mob notes, because he’s started using his hands to talk and his posture looks normal again.

 

“Call me Toriel, dear.” She says. Reigen snatches up her name with a snap of his fingers.

 

“Right, of course. Toriel.” Her name slips smoothly off of his tongue, like he’d known it forever. “My dear protege and I had everything under control, I assure you, but you saved us some trouble.”

 

She waves them off immediately, face relaxing into what Mob imagines is a smile of sorts. “Think nothing of it. It is my job to take care of these Ruins and all who dwell within.” She folds her hands at her waist, something grave lurking in her otherwise gentle eyes. “I come by this area every day, to see if anyone has fallen. It has been a long time since a human came down here... let alone two.”  

 

“I guess we’re a bit of a rarity, then.” Reigen concludes, scratching his chin. Beside him, Mob finally decides to speak, mumbling something almost inaudible while dipping his head.

 

“We didn’t mean to intrude on your home,” Is what he says, peering up at her towering figure through his bangs. “We’re very sorry.”

 

She looks almost confused by his apology, Mob thinks. He can’t help but wonder if he said the wrong thing.

 

“That is quite alright, young one. It is hardly an intrusion.” She says, voice so very soft, as if she were talking to a glass on the brink of shattering. He isn’t sure whether he feels grateful, or a little patronized. Maybe both.

 

He should at least appreciate her kind welcome in spite of how they’d _literally_ crashed through her roof, he guesses. He’ll take what he’s given.

 

“Well, in any case,” She continues, idly straightening the wrinkles in her robe. “why don’t you come along with me for now? I’m sure you are both very tired.” Mob _is_ tired. He wonders how she could tell, perhaps unaware that his face pretty much looked like that _all_ the time. “I will lead you to my home; I am sure you will find solace there. Come.” She beckons them into the tunnel from whence she came, its heavy shadows swallowing her whole.

 

Mob and Reigen are left to ponder their decision in silence.

 

“...So,” Reigen starts, restlessly running his fingers through thoroughly dampened locks. Almost jokingly, he asks, “You still wanna check that opening?”

 

“If you want,” Mob says quietly, turning his head to meet Reigen’s gaze. “But I don’t think it will be different.”

 

Reigen exhales slowly. “So we have to go this way.”

 

“I think so, yes.”

 

“Okay. Okay, that’s fine.” Reigen pinches the bridge of his nose, slowly but surely collecting himself. “Let’s hope she’s a better guide than our first, then. Not that we really _need_ one.”

 

“She seemed nice.” Mob considers, idly twirling the string of his jacket around his finger. “This mountain is a lot bigger than we thought, Master. Maybe having a guide won’t be so bad.”

 

Reigen gives him a long look, uncharacteristically lacking in expression, before he’s swept up in the familiar torrent of colorful movement that Mob is so used to seeing. “Well! You have a point. Possibly. That is to say, we’ve done quite enough — we deserve a break! Don’t you think so?”

 

“Mm,” Mob hums noncommittally. “Is it really a break if we have to walk more?”

 

“...Two points. You’re on fire today, Mob.”

 

Mob might find that a bit more funny if his legs weren’t so tired. Even so, they walk.

 

“Speaking of fire,” Reigen is quick to fill the silence when it sneaks up on them, like he always does. “she was _literally_ on fire. I feel like you aren’t as concerned about that as I am.”

 

“There are a lot of different kinds of power.” Mob says with some kind of half-shrug. “And that’s hers.”

 

“So it is.” Reigen accepts, lowering his voice just enough that it doesn’t echo off the tunnel walls. “What about _her,_ then?”

 

Mob eyes Reigen in his peripheral. “What about her?” 

 

A vague string of meaningless hand gestures answer him, before Reigen conjures up some semblance of a coherent response. “What do you suppose _she_ is?”

 

“I don’t know.” Mob balances his chin on this thumb like Reigen often does, but unlike his master, he wasn’t actually pondering over the subject at hand very much. “I thought it might be rude to ask.”

 

“Perhaps.” Reigen agrees with some reluctance, hands moving to spiral in time with the tangle of words to follow. “So, you’re not worried about this— fire wielding, _talking_ — not human fluffy woman.”

 

“No, not really.”

 

“Not even a little bit.”  

 

Mob gives him a long look, and with all the bluntness of a slab of concrete, says, “I live with _Dimple.”_

 

“...Point three for Mob.”

 

That was the end of that.

 

* * *

 

Mob squints his eyes against the jarring change of scenery, as the muted grays and shadows give way to a faded purple color that coats the room from top to bottom. Aside from some greenery draped over an opening nearby, and some red leaves here and there, that was all there was to see: purple. He doesn’t dislike purple, it's quite a nice color. But this might be a little too much.

 

Toriel murmurs a welcome he doesn’t quite catch, beckoning them up a nearby set of stairs. Luckily, they aren’t very high and don’t go on for very long, because hiking his way up here alongside his master had been more than enough for his fatigued little legs. Running with the rest of the body improvement club was one thing, but he hadn’t exactly been going up any incline then. He’s already dreading the journey back to the mountain’s peak.

 

“Mob,” The boy turns swiftly at the sound of his name, finding Reigen halfway up to the landing. “We aren’t here to sight see, remember? Come on, you’ll get left behind.”

 

Mob doubts that. Toriel didn’t look like she had any intention of moving before he’d reached the top, and his master always seemed to notice when he was spacing out in order to call him back. Between those two, that warning didn’t hold very much weight.

 

“Ah, sorry.” He says after a moment's pause, eventually managing to drag his gaze away from the scenery and hurry along to where Reigen and Toriel now stood. She leads them through an impossibly large doorway, and Mob can’t help but wonder who it had been designed for as he watches their backs disappear into the next room. He doesn't follow. Not immediately.

 

Instead, he casts a glance back to where they came from, catching the last scraps of sunlight visible through the tunnel’s end and clinging to the warmth he could no longer feel. The drop in temperature without it has already settled over the thin fabric of his jacket, making him yearn for it all the more. He wonders when he’ll see it again if they keep going this way.

 

It isn’t like they have much of a choice in the matter, though. He knows they can’t go out the way they’d come in — and to say that bothers him would be a massive understatement. The fact that it bothers him so much only bothers him all the more; he really _does_ rely on his powers too much. Now they’re under a lock, and all of the sudden, he’s not the key anymore. And he hasn't a clue as to _why._

 

His barrier, too. Mob doesn’t know what to make of its uselessness, and that’s the worst part. At least when it came to other espers, there was always a reason; the cursed room, something powerful enough to break through it, either of those would have sufficed. _This_ had simply ignored it altogether, slipping through undetected as though it didn’t exist at all. He can’t rely on his powers right now, and that was that.

 

Funny how he’d always dreamed of such a thing, a life without psychic powers. He had never taken into account the vulnerabilities that came with its sudden and inexplicable weakness.

 

 _“Mob.”_ Reigen pulls him from his sea of thoughts a second time, looking just a little exasperated. “I know you have ears, maybe turn them on for a minute? I could be going on about something very important and heartfelt and you’re just going to _miss_ it. Mob radio is tuned into the wrong station, okay? I’m over here.”

 

Mob's hair, a bit puffed up from the startle, gradually flattens back down again as he stammers out a second apology. His cheeks look a bit pinker against his pale complexion.

 

...He could think on this later. Not that there was much of that left to be done. He knows not the what or the why, nor anything he can do about it, so the least he _can_ do here is pay attention and let them progress. They're waiting for him. 

 

**The shadow of the Ruins looms above...**

 

**...**

 

And Mob doesn’t feel all that different.     

 

28%

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * You're filled with...?
> 
> -
> 
> Our journey begins at long last! The pacing has been a bit slow these two chapters, but with any luck, it'll start speeding up from here on out. Hopefully updates will speed up too, but I won't promise that at least until after Christmas - holiday rush shifts are horrible, I have learned!! As is being a working adult. If I'm honest, though, most of the time spent here was stuck on Toriel's introduction scene; I just could not get past it for the life of me. 
> 
> Now, as for why Mob's barrier didn't block Flowey's attacks? What a mystery. I'll consider giving an explanation later on if it isn't addressed anywhere in the fic (can you tell I'm so great at planning?), but for now, we're gonna be scratching our heads alongside Mob here. 
> 
> Lastly, to all who left such nice comments and kudos: thank you so much! Motivation is hard to come by for me sometimes but your support really helped hype me up for this. Thanks for reading, and I'll see you next chapter!


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